The Inquisition
by ChaosAngel4us
Summary: She's the Inquisitor: the one marked to protect the world from the tears in the fade. It's her duty. Though her new teammates are making it increasingly more difficult to succeed. Includes canon events and fan speculated ones. Ongoing until game's release
1. Varric Tethras

**Hello, everyone! Out of preparation for Dragon Age: Inquisition, I've decided to start a drabble series focused on my Inquisitor and her adventures through Thedas. Don't take anything too seriously, because most of this is pure speculation. Hope you enjoy it anyway!**

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**DISCLAIMER: No, I don't own Dragon Age. Though I would like to.**

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She hadn't been expecting this. Being the sole survivor of a massive genocide and then walking out of the fade unscathed and with no memory of the slaughter. When she had woken up this morning, she had been nothing more than a simple mercenary, earning her way and living off of what she earned. She was a simple woman with simple needs.

But then Cassandra, the seeker…

"Inquisitor! Behind you!" the seeker shouted. The inquisitor pivoted and lifted her blade in time to catch the demon's claws aimed at her heart. With quick and efficient strokes, she relieved the monster of its head and moved to the next threat.

Simple. Lather, rinse, repeat. The inquisitor had been fighting for nearly her whole life. But demons from the fade were a different story. They were tougher and less predictable.

"Get your head out of the clouds before you get us all killed!" Cassandra shouted again. The inquisitor refrained from rolling her eyes. She wouldn't endanger the team; she wasn't an idiot.

But the demon horde was too massive. They were _everywhere. _Where the _hell _were they—

The inquisitor felt the claws rake her back and she gasped in pain before twisting around to block a second attack. She _really_ needed to concentrate on the fight at hand. She swiped at the creature, but her wound was slowing her down and it easily parried her attack. The inquisitor went in again but the demon slapped the sword from her grasp. Wincing, she backed up, searching for _something _to use as a weapon. She opened her mouth to call out to Cassandra for help but was silenced by a bolt lodging itself in the demon's skull.

The inquisitor blinked in surprise, turning in time to see a dwarf load a second bolt in his crossbow and take out the second demon advancing on her. The inquisitor quickly retrieved her blade and shook her head to clear it. She was getting distracted too easily.

With the addition of the dwarf, the horde was dispatched and the survivors fled. The inquisitor was leaning heavily on her sword, but she was glad it was over. For now.

The dwarf approached their team and Cassandra narrowed her eyes at him. The inquisitor noticed her lips were pursed tightly and the dwarf winked at her so she figured the two knew each other. She expected him to say something to Cassandra, but instead he looked over at her.

"You might want to watch yourself." The dwarf said, slinging his crossbow over his shoulder. A smirk curled the edges of his lips. "It's raining demons out here."

The inquisitor nodded curtly, feeling embarrassed at her lack of concentration on the battlefield. Cassandra said something about returning to the keep and the dwarf decided he would tag along.

"To make sure this one over here doesn't get offed on the way home." He teased, winking at the inquisitor.

The inquisitor could not recall a time where she had blushed so furiously at a man's teasing until that day. The dwarf chuckled as she turned away from him in embarrassment. The inquisitor decided she would need to keep an eye out for him.

He was trouble.


	2. What's in a Name?

**I know I've been focusing on Varric and the Inquisitor mainly so far, but I promise we'll meet the others next chapter. This one directly follows chapter 1, but be prepared for skipping around.**

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Ever since reaching the keep, the dwarf had been tailing the inquisitor. When she took a seat in one of the sitting rooms, he sat across from her. She pretended not to notice him, focusing on the battle plans Cassandra had saddled her with. The dwarf simply rested his head on his hands and watched her. The inquisitor had noticed that he had put on a chest plate and she felt herself mildly relieved at not having all that chest hair to distract her. No need to give him any other ammunition besides the whole "saving her" bit. The inquisitor _hated_ the thought of ever being a damsel in distress who needed to be _saved_. She was a mercenary (former, she amended) and perfectly capable of taking care of herself.

"I'm Varric. Varric Tethras." He said. She ignored him and flipped the page. "And you are?"

The inquisitor was getting fed up with him and fixed a harsh glare on him before answering. "It doesn't matter."

"Aw, come on, beautiful. Aren't you going to at least tell me your name? I deserve that much after saving your life." He pressed, grinning cheekily and shifting his position so he could get a better look at her.

"Yoo did not save my life—"

"Twice." He interrupted, still grinning.

"What?"

"I saved your life twice."

"You did not—" she tried to protest but he interrupted her again.

"You were almost cut to ribbons after losing your sword and I shot both demons that almost got the best of you. So, twice." He explained, crossing his arms over his chest. His grin was most certainly triumphant. The inquisitor rolled her eyes.

"I had a lot on my mind. It is not a common occurrence for me to require such assistance." She defended herself. Varric simply laughed.

"Whatever you say, princess. So how about that name?"

"I am the inquisitor and that is the only name you need to worry about."

"I know you're the inquisitor, but you've got to have a _real_ name."

She stared at him for a moment longer before dropping her gaze back down to the map in front of her. Varric stood and walked around the table to take a seat next to her. The inquisitor gave him a surprised look as he leaned in close to get a better look at what she was doing. His breath was against her neck and she felt herself shiver in response.

"Interesting… though don't you think you should send a team to the north instead? There have been more demon sightings there than to the east."

The inquisitor snatched up her plans and slid along the bench to put some distance between them. He was… distracting. "These are not for your eyes, dwarf."

Varric leaned back and looked at her, raising an eyebrow. "And why not? I'm part of this inquisition now."

"These plans are only to be discussed in the war room." She answered. Varric sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Alright, whatever makes you feel better."

"Listen, dwarf, you have no idea—" she began, but he interrupted her.

"My name is Varric, princess, not "dwarf and I would appreciate you using it."

"Very well. Varric, you do not understand—"

"I've fought in battle before alongside some of the most seasoned fighters. I fought beside the Champion of Kirkwall. I know strategy. You're being a little ridiculous." He interrupted again. The inquisitor narrowed her eyes at him.

"Stop interrupting me." she demanded angrily. "It's getting on my nerves."

"Sorry, princess. It's a habit of mine to tease others and you are just too easy to fluster." He said with his signature smirk. "But how 'bout we try to be cordial now, alright? I see you changed your armor."

The inquisitor nodded. "After my last armor's inability to protect against demon claws, I had new armor fashioned to better service me." She said. Varric nodded, listening intently.

"Seems like a good idea."

"I se you decided to cover your…" she trailed off, waving her hand in the air.

"—luxurious chest hair?" he finished for her, grinning from ear to ear. The inquisitor simply stared blankly at him.

"That's one word for it." She deadpanned. Varric laughed and the inquisitor cracked a smile that did not go unnoticed by her dwarf companion.

"I am flattered you've taken such a great interest in the affairs of my chest region. Dwarven pride and all that." He said.

"Is that where your beard went?" she teased. Varric laughed again.

"Ooh, I like you. We'll get along just fine."

They fell back into silence and the inquisitor grew tired of pretending to study the documents Cassandra had given her. The dwarf was irksome but he was good company, she mused. After several moments of silence, she stood and stretched her aching body before speaking.

"I am going to the war room." She said. "Cassandra will want to discuss our strategy."

Varric stood and motioned for her to lead the way. "Don't mind if I join you."

The inquisitor pursed her lips but decided it wasn't worth the effort of fighting about. Though she did appreciate the company. The dwarf was a pain, yes, but he was handsome and charming as well. She couldn't help the smile on her lips as she entered the war room. Cassandra gave her a strange look but didn't comment on it.

As the meeting went on, the inquisitor found herself not paying attention. Her thoughts kept drifting to the dwarf standing behind her. Cassandra asked her a question, but she didn't answer. She sighed, noticing the grinning inquisitor.

"What has you in a such a good mood?" she asked. The inquisitor tried to steel her features.

"Nothing. Please continue." She said.

"My chest hair, distracting as it is." Varric said from behind her. She froze up and slowly turned to glare at the insufferable dwarf. "She just can't keep her mind off of it."

Cassandra cleared her throat, uncomfortable, while the inquisitor gritted her teeth.

"Varric—"

"You know how women are: they just can't keep their hands off of me." He continued, smirking deviously. The inquisitor clenched her hands into fists to keep from strangling him.

"Dwarf, I swear it, if you don't _stop talking_, I'll—"

"Spank me?" he interrupted, leering at the inquisitor. "I could go for a good spanking. I have been rather naughty."

The inquisitor's jaw snapped shut so fast there was an audible clack, Cassandra's eyes bugged out of her head, and absolute silence filled the war room. All eyes were on the smirking dwarf and blushing inquisitor.

"Get. Out." She hissed between clenched teeth, her eyes blazing with anger. Her face was still flushed, but it was clear to everyone listening that she was in a foul mood. Varric raised his hands in defense.

"Alright, alright, I'm going." He said, still smirking. He backed away from the seething inquisitor slowly.

"I will deal with you later." She continued.

"Oh, I will be waiting with bated breath." He said, winking at her. The inquisitor's face reddened further.

"OUT!" she shouted and the dwarf was gone with a parting laugh. She turned to the rest of the people in the war room, cleared her throat, and adjusted the collar of her shirt. "Well, where were we?"


	3. Iron Bull

**And here we have one of the characters I'm really excited for (probably because I desperately miss Sten from Origins), Iron Bull! This has basically no concrete evidence of any actual dialogue or plot; purely for (my) entertainment purposes. Enjoy!**

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The inquisitor had dealt with many of the Tal-Vashoth in her line of work. Granted, she was usually killing them, but either way she knew what they were like.

They were a lot like her: mercenaries. Battle hardened, ready for the next fight, and fearless.

That was why when she first met the huge, one-eyed man who went by "Iron Bull", she wasn't worried at all about how the exchange would go. He glared down at her, his massive hammer slung over his shoulder, and she simply stared back.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice gruff and unwavering. The inquisitor simply smiled.

"I just saw you take out a small horde of demons all on your own. What do you think I want?"

His only reply was a noncommittal grunt.

"There is a tear in the fade—" she began but the Tal-Vashoth interrupted her.

"Yes, everyone knows this, so I ask again: _what do you want_?"

The inquisitor was getting tired of people interrupting her. She had to deal with the dwarf yesterday, Cassandra four days ago, and now she had to convince a rather strong lone Tal-Vashoth to join her inquisition. It wouldn't be easy but then again, Cassandra never said it would be.

"I'm getting to it. I have the ability to close those tears," she heard him snort in disbelief but chose to ignore it, "and I need more people to help with our inquisition. You have the muscle I need so I'm going to start out by asking nicely before I move into threats."

Iron Bull looked amused as she glared up at him. The inquisitor refused to let his massive frame intimidate her.

"Do you really think your threats mean anything to me?" he asked, grinning. The inquisitor had her blade to his throat before he could blink.

"Do you really think I can't make due on those threats?" she tried to keep the taunt out of her voice but failed miserably. She only hoped Iron Bull wouldn't take it the wrong way.

"You make a convincing argument, Inquisitor." He stated.

"I don't want to have to threaten you. We could really use your help." She said, lowering her blade and taking a step back. "You're strong and fearless and someone I would like by my side to fight against this. I'm not one to beg and will only ask once: will you join me?"

The Tal-Vashoth looked down at her, seeing the strength behind her gaze. There was a haunted look in her eyes as well, one he knew all too well. She had darkness in her past.

So did he.

"How exactly will helping you benefit me?" he asked. The inquisitor sighed.

"I can pay you."

"How much?"

"As much as you want."

Iron Bull grinned at the smaller woman. "Very well, Inquisitor. You've twisted my leg. Where do I sign up?"

The inquisitor grinned back. "Follow me."


	4. Past Failings

**Okay, so this is going more chronological than I thought it would. Blah, oh well. Anyway, this does have Varric romance in it so if you don't like dwarf-romances, this isn't a story for you. And I'm trying to keep the inquisitor ambiguous which I hope I'm somewhat successful at...  
**

**Thank you for your lovely reviews! I'm glad to know you guys like it so far :)**

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Cassandra placed a map in front of the inquisitor, a city in Orlais circled. She looked up at the seeker in confusion.

"What—"

"One of the potentials for the Inquisition lives there." Cassandra interrupted. The inquisitor refrained from rolling her eyes. People had a knack for interrupting her every time she tried to speak. If it didn't stop, she was going to start bashing in people's heads.

"Easy, princess. The seeker isn't one of the enemies." Varric said, coming up beside the inquisitor. She gave him a sharp glare.

"I know that. I'm simply tired of people interrupting me all the time."

"My apologies." Cassandra said but the inquisitor had a feeling she wasn't really all that repentant. "Now can we get back to the task on hand?"

"Go ahead."

"Her name is Vivienne. She's a mage, pro-Circle, and was almost first enchanter to a Circle in Orlais before the wars broke out." Cassandra continued. The inquisitor raised an eyebrow.

"Pro- Circle? So she's for the oppression of mages? That doesn't make any sense." She said, crossing her arms over her chest. What mage supported the Templars? Cassandra shook her head.

"No, she simply believes that the Circle is good for mages. That it's a place for raising mages properly and decreasing the amount of blood mages running about. It has nothing to do with the oppression of mages." Cassandra explained. The inquisitor nodded once before strapping her sword against her back and re-attaching her chest armor.

"Varric, grab Iron Bull and let him know we're heading out." She ordered. The dwarf nodded and complied.

Within the hour, Cassandra, Varric, Iron Bull, and the inquisitor were on horseback headed to the city in Orlais Cassandra said Vivienne was living in. She was the advisor to the empress and staying away from any and all Rebellion Action. Cassandra's informant had been tailing the mage and said she was strongly against the Mage-Templar War. Being advisor to the empress of Orlais meant getting an audience with her would be difficult, but Cassandra seemed to be optimistic about their chances.

"So, princess, you have any interest in the war?" Varric asked, riding along side the inquisitor. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.

"Not particularly. I worked as a mercenary before getting branded with this," she lifted her slightly glowing hand, "and simply worked for the highest bidder. Didn't matter who I fought for as long as I got paid."

"What were you doing at the meeting between the heads of this civil war?"

The inquisitor sighed, knowing this question was coming. She had already explained herself to Cassandra, but she had a feeling her other companions would be curious as well. "I was hired by the Chantry." She began. "They wanted added security to help keep the leaders from fighting during the meeting. Me and my men," she paused for a moment, feeling sadness overwhelm her at the thought of her men who she had fought beside for many years being _gone,_ "we were simply standing in the room listening to them fight. It all happened so quickly; there was a loud boom and a flash of light and fire and—"

The inquisitor turned her head from Varric.

"It's alright. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." He assured her. She shook her head.

"I don't remember much after that. Just walking out of the fade and seeing all the bodies, recognizing the armor of my men— why?" she looked at him, her eyes full of pain. "Why did they die and I live?"

"You may never know that answer." Varric said. "It's a war, Inquisitor. But not only that, someone was targeting the heads of the snakes and your men were casualties of that. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I know what it's like to lose someone you care about."

The inquisitor shook her head to clear it and took a few deep breaths. "Who?"

He turned so he was looking forward once more. "It doesn't matter. Happened a long time ago." He said before kicking the horse to spur it forward. She watched him go, confused.

Was it something she said?


	5. Vivienne

**I am really excited for Vivienne as a character. She's gorgeous and her character description makes her sound fantastic and I'm just really excited to see her in action.**

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"I heard you wished to speak with me."

The inquisitor looked up as the woman entered. She was tall and dressed in a silver robe that glittered like diamonds in the light. Horns protruded from the decorations atop her head, something the inquisitor would think silly but actually looked quite good on the mage. A staff with three prongs was in her right hand and she stood before the inquisitor with her head high.

"Yes. I am in need of your talents. My companions and I—"

"If this is about the Mage-Templar War, you can forget it." she cut her off with a barely concealed sneer. The inquisitor had to bite her tongue to keep from shouting in frustration. What was it with people and interrupting her all the time?

"It isn't."

"Oh?"

Vivienne didn't seem convinced as she raised an eyebrow at the inquisitor. The inquisitor simply nodded.

"You've seen the tears in the veil have you not?" at Vivienne's nod, she continued. "I am the leader of an expedition to close these tears."

"And how do you expect to do that?"

The inquisitor lifted her glowing hand and presented it to her. Vivienne's eyes widened a fraction of an inch as she stared at the mark where the power was pulsing.

"What is that?"

"I have been given the power to close these tears but I cannot do it alone. You are a powerful and influential mage, Vivienne. I could use your help." The inquisitor said, attempting flattery (_not_ her strongest suit, but it was worth a shot). However, it did not have the desired effect. Vivienne's eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms over her chest.

"So that's what this is about, hm? You want to use me because of my political situation? Well, frankly I think—"

"It has nothing to do with using you. I'm asking you for your help." The inquisitor interrupted, irritated. "The world will tear itself apart if we cannot close those tears and I would appreciate your help because you are a strong and talented mage. Your power will benefit me, yes, but in order to save the world from destruction, we need to work together."

Vivienne was quiet for a moment. "You truly think you can succeed at your task?"

The inquisitor nodded.

"And I would appreciate it if you were willing to lend your strength to this inquisition."

Vivienne closed her eyes in thought for a moment. "I will do whatever I can to protect my people. The mages have suffered enough and are already being blamed for this tear. If I can prove their innocence, I shall join you." She answered. The inquisitor smiled and held her hand out to the mage.

"It will be a pleasure to work with you, I'm sure." She said. Vivienne's smile turned feral.

"Oh, Inquisitor, you may regret that yet." She said.

And she was somewhat right. After introducing Vivienne to the rest of their motley crew, the "connoisseur of fashion" went to town picking apart each and every member's clothing choices.

"You would be so pretty if you would simply try on this dress, Cassandra. It brings out your eyes and is _much _better than that terrible armor you always wear."

"How long have you been wearing that armor for? I don't care if it was the first set you received during your time as a mercenary or that is offers good protection. It is ugly and makes you look like a bog unicorn."

"Do you honestly think going shirtless was a fashionable choice? At the very least cover yourself with a silk robe. You're not in the Qun anymore."

"And you, dwarf. Keep up the good work."

… It was going to be a long journey.


	6. Sore Limbs and Accidents

**Okay, _now_ you can expect drabbles that don't really happy in the correct order. If it gets too confusing, feel free to PM me and I'll be happy to explain how everything works out!**

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It had been a long day. The inquisitor wanted nothing more than to collapse on her bed and sleep. They had been ambushed by mercenaries and then had to fight a small horde of demons back to back and she was absolutely exhausted from swinging her blade around. Her arms were sore most of all.

"I have a salve for that." Sera said, popping her head through the flap of her tent and holding a small bottle that smelled absolutely terrible. "Sometimes my arms get sore from shooting for too long but it works on all sorts of sore muscles."

The inquisitor gave the elf a grateful smile. "Thank you. My shoulders are really feeling it."

"Loosen your armor plates and I'll get it for you." Sera offered cheerfully. The inquisitor complied and removed her shirt as well, leaving her with a scrap of fabric covering her chest. Sera took a seat behind her and began to work the awful smelling ointment into her shoulders. The inquisitor sighed in relief, feeling her muscles relax. Just as she was beginning to feel herself drift off, another head appeared through the flap of the tent.

"Inquisitor, I— _holy shit_!" Iron Bull shouted, coming face to face with the Inquisitor's breasts. She let out an undignified shriek and Sera tossed her a blanket to cover up with. Iron Bull covered his eyes with his hands and backed out of the tent.

"So incredibly sorry. I will be going now."

Iron Bull walked over to the campfire everyone else was seated around. Their new gray warden companion noticed the Tal-Vashoth's discomfort first.

"What's wrong?"

"I just walked in on Sera giving the inquisitor a massage." He explained.

"That hardly seems like any reason to be so flustered." Solas was busy cleaning the dagger he used if an apponent got too close during battle and didn't look up when he spoke. Iron Bull shook his head.

"It is when you almost end up sticking your face between her exposed breasts."

There was complete silence as the men around the fire contemplated what he just said. Varric grinned so wide his face almost split in half. He stood from the campfire and called toward the tent.

"Oh, princess, do you need any help in there? I'm sure any one of us out here would be happy to help you with your little problem!"

A muffled "I will kill you, Tethras" was his response and he couldn't help but chuckle.


	7. Betrayal

**I was inspired by tumblr today when** momochanners** mention the group shot around the table was reminiscent of The Last Supper painting. And also mentioned they didn't want to think about who could possibly be a Judas. **

**I on the other hand decided to think about it.**

**Don't get me wrong, I love this character. I _really _hope he doesn't end up betraying everyone (cough cough like Anders cough), but after the hint in one of the trailers, I couldn't help myself. So here we are, one of my least favorite scenes I've written so far.**

**In perspective, it takes place toward the end of the game in my head cannon.**

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The inquisitor grasped her bleeding shoulder. She had been struck and the limb almost removed, but a quick potion kept her from losing her arm. She stared at her attacker in a mix of disbelief, confusion, and anger.

"How could you?" she asked sadly. "How could you!"

He was silent as she glared at him. It only caused her anger to grow. She clenched her sword tightly and took a step toward him.

"We were friends! We worked together, fought together, bled together! We were allies. I trusted you! And this is how you repay me?" she demanded, her dark eyes blazing.

"It's nothing personal, boss. Just business." Came his gruff answer. He sighed, lifting a hand to rub his eyebrow. "No one else was supposed to get hurt."

"You betrayed us."

"I betrayed _you_." He corrected. It only caused the inquisitor's anger to grow.

"I was your leader. You pledged your allegiance to me and when you betrayed me, everyone else who fights with me was also betrayed. We were a team."

He was silent as she accused him.

"Why?" she asked, her voice breaking. He sighed.

"They offered me more money than you did."

"So it's all about money? We meant nothing to you?" she spread her arms out, indicating their fallen comrades, all too weak to fight anymore. Iron Bull gritted his teeth and pointed his hammer at the inquisitor.

"It had nothing to do with them! Had they not interfered, they wouldn't have gotten hurt. It was only about you. I take you out, and my benefactor was going to triple the sum you were going to pay me for fixing the tears." He said.

"You know I can't let you live after this." She said calmly. She raised her sword to the Tal-Vashoth. His smile was grim.

"You're welcome to try to stop me."

The fight wasn't romantic or justified or any manner of wording Varric would eventually use to describe the fight between the inquisitor and Iron Bull. It wasn't short and she didn't make him bow before her and remove his head for his treachery. She didn't walk away from the fight with her head held high.

No, she walked away broken. The fight was long and brutal with neither able to get the upper hand until Solas managed to regain some of his strength and cast a small stun spell that caused Iron Bull to stumble. The inquisitor, exhausted and barely standing, took the opportunity to run her sword through the massive warrior's chest. She collapsed to her knees by his body, tears falling from her eyes for the first time any of them had seen.

Varric stood shakily and walked toward her.

"Princess…" he said before pulling her into his arms and allowing her to sob into his chest. Iron Bull's betrayal was hard on all of them. "Shhh, it's over now."

The inquisitor gripped his arms as she pressed her face into the loose fabric of his shirt. "He was my friend."

"He was all of our friend. I know it's hard, but it's over now. And we need to move on." Varric pressed. "More enemies could arrive at any moment and we should go."

"But— the body. We should bury it." She insisted. Varric shook his head.

"He doesn't deserve it."

"Varric, please. He hurt us, but he was still our friend."

Varric sighed but acquiesced. He, Solas, and Sera stood by as she dug a shallow grave for the massive Tal-Vashoth. None of them had the strength to help her. They watched grimly as she dragged his body and covered it. She stood over his final resting place, leaning heavily on her sword.

Sera allowed the inquisitor to lean on her and they slowly made their way back to the keep. Cassandra was going to _love_ to hear about what had just happened. Varric sighed, wondering how he could possibly write about this situation and place it in a heroic light.

Having to kill a friend was never an easy task. He remembered Anders. No, it was never easy. And it never would be.


	8. Solas

**We'll take this back to another party member's introduction. I'm really interested in Solas. I think he has a really interesting backstory to explore judging by some of the artwork I've seen. So, here he is. I'm actually really happy with this chapter.**

**Thanks for all those of you checking this story out. Leave me a review if you see anything I've completely screwed up with or if there's something you specifically want written (such as a fandom idea that's been discussed or something canon oriented) or if you just want to let me know what you think of my story. It would be much appreciated :)**

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"What are you doing out here?" the inquisitor asked the elf sitting by the small campfire. His staff was resting on the log beside him. He didn't look up at her as she spoke. So she spoke again. "There aren't many lone apostates anymore. "They've all banded together to fight against their oppressors."

"And how do you fit into all this?" he demanded, finally turning his angry gaze to her. The inquisitor shrugged and walked nonchalantly across from his fire to take a seat, his eyes following her the whole time.

"I don't care much for the war going on, but I do care about the tears in the fade."

The apostate elf barked out a laugh. He laced his fingers together and rested them on his knees, leaning forward to stare deeply into the blaze. "What do you know about the fade?"

The inquisitor quirked an eyebrow. "What do you?"

"More than you, I can assure you."

"Enlighten me."

He looked her dead in the eyes then. There was great pain and sadness. He had endured much, the inquisitor was sure of it. And she would bet that more than half of it was because of the fade.

"These tears are destroying the world, tearing it asunder." He said. "The exact way it was started is still muddled, but the purpose is clear: someone is trying to lead the world to ruin and resurrect the Black City. I would place my bets on them trying to take the place of the old gods or the Maker depending on your religion."

The inquisitor leaned forward, listening intently. Vivienne was standing behind her with her arms crossed. She wasn't a fan of apostates. They took away order from the circle. Sera was squatting on the ground, picking at leaves and only half paying attention. Iron Bull was leaning up against a tree watching the inquisitor interact with the elf they had run into in the forest. He hardly cared, but if the boss thought it was important enough to stop for, it must be.

"And how do you feel about this?" the inquisitor asked. They had yet to break eye contact with each other.

"Whoever is doing this needs to be stopped."

The inquisitor smiled as if this was the answer she was looking for. She stood, staring at him with that self-satisfied grin, and reached her hand out for him across the fire.

"Join us then. Our goals are one and you seem to have a better grasp on the situation than any of us." She said. He raised his eyebrows at her.

"And how do you intend to stop it?"

The inquisitor lifted her hand to show him the eerie green glow. His eyes widened as he looked at the glowing mark.

"Wha—?"

"I have the ability to do so. Don't ask how because I honestly cannot tell you." She said. The apostate nodded slowly and she looked at him expectantly, shaking her still outstretched hand. "Do we have an accord?"

He stood up and took her hand.

"We do."

She smiled. "What's your name, elf?"

"Solas."

"Good to meet you, Solas." She said, still grinning, as she shook his hand.

"And you are?" he asked. The inquisitor gave him a knowing smile before turning around and leading the way. Solas stared at her, befuddled. "Is she always like this?"

"You'll get used to it." Iron Bull said from behind him, shoving him to pick up the pace.

"Did she tell _any_ of you her name?"

Sera shrugged, but Vivienne answered for her. "She did not."


	9. Eye

**So, on tumblr again and **abettercrowtrap** brought up the point of Hawke being the one to put out Iron Bull's eye.**

**And this kind of happened...**

* * *

It was a simple question, one that he probably should have been expecting. But when it came, Iron Bull couldn't help but sigh and roll his only eye at the inquisitor.

"How did you lose your eye?"

They had been in camp, halfway back to their keep and deciding to rest before finishing their long trek. Iron Bull had been leaning back against a log and warming himself by the fire when the inquisitor came up beside him. She had settled in at his hip, their bodies not touching, but he was very aware of her presence. She was fidgety; he had a feeling something was up.

He didn't know much about the inquisitor. He had only just met her. She had threatened him into helping her and then later offered to pay him for his support, so he agreed. He had been with her on a total of three missions.

Not the strongest basis for asking such… intimate questions.

But he answered her nonetheless.

"In battle." Was his brief response. The inquisitor frowned at him.

"That tells me nothing."

"What more are you looking for?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her. She grinned.

"Maybe something interesting. Who were you fighting, where were you, why were you fighting, etc."

Iron Bull sighed and acquiesced. His mind drifted back to a different time, one where he thought his life had meaning and he knew what he was doing. Where his allegiances lied.

"Many years ago I was a staunch follower of the Qun. I followed the Arishok wherever he went no matter the cost. He was my ruler, the one to whom I obeyed without question. At the time, we had crash-landed in Kirkwall. The Arishok said we were preparing to return home once our ships were repaired, but many years passed that we spent walking about in the strange city, seeing its corruption. Seeing its folly.

"I remember it clearly, the first time I saw her. She was a short woman with short black hair and cocky blue eyes. She walked into our hold out with her head held high and a snarky remark on her lips. She was striking and the Arishok was entranced. There was something about the rouge that captured his attention especially and in turn mine.

"As time passed, the Arishok decided to take care of the dysfunctional city and sent us out to attack. I was stationed inside the Viscount's Keep and it was there we met in battle. I had yet to face an opponent, a human for that matter, that I could not defeat, and yet that tiny human rouge with her twin knives bested me. I couldn't land a hit on her due to her small size; she was so incredibly nimble. Hopped right on my back and plucked my eye from its socket before leaving me screaming in the hallway behind her as she went to face the Arishok."

The inquisitor listened intently, entranced by his tale.

"So, you're telling me the Champion of Kirkwall took your eye?" she asked. Iron Bull nodded, grinning.

"She was one hell of a sadistic spitfire. Took the Arishok down just as easily. She was a sprightly little thing." He said, admiration in his tone. Sure, she had taken his eye, but she was a fierce warrior. One he was glad to have fought.

"When did you leave the Qun?" the inquisitor asked.

"Shortly after that. With no Arishok to lead us, I found myself disgusted with the way our society was handling itself recently. I was giving my life up for someone unworthy of my loyalty. So when the boats left for home, I stayed. Found work as a mercenary and have been living this way ever since." He explained. The inquisitor nodded, contemplating his story.

"That's quite a tale." She commented. Iron Bull nodded.

"I've never been prouder to have received such a scar."

"Really?"

He nodded. "The Campion of Kirkwall was a worthy adversary. And not many can say they fought her and walked away. I was lucky she only took my eye." He said.

The inquisitor fell silent, staring into the flames of their campfire for a moment.

"It's getting late," she said, "I'm going to head to bed. Don't stay up too late; we need to leave early tomorrow."

Iron Bull waved off her concern and after fixing him with an irritated stare, she was gone. Iron Bull didn't waste much more time staring into the fire; he stood to enter his own tent, memories of the quick little rouge that bested him running through his head.


	10. Jealousy

**Another one and romance-y. I really just can't get enough of that dwarf...**

**And hey, guys, if you have any input you want to offer on this story I would seriously appreciate it.**

* * *

"So, what's up with you and the Templar?" Varric asked, leaning in the doorway of the inquisitor's room. He was inspecting his gloved hands nonchalantly, but the inquisitor knew better. She glanced up at him, mirth shining in her eyes.

"Jealous?" she teased. Varric scoffed.

"Of pretty boy? Hardly."

The inquisitor gave his a disbelieving smile before turning to the map lying out on her bed. Varric waited in the doorway, too much of a gentleman to enter a lady's room without permission.

"Is there something else you wanted, Varric?" The inquisitor asked, not looking up from her work. Varric shook his head.

"Nah, I've got stuff to do. Stories to write. Heroes to glorify. Who knows? Maybe I'll write a book about you." He said. The inquisitor smiled.

"Oh, I can't _wait_ to see what light you paint me in." she teased. Varric laughed.

"Princess, I'll tell nothing but the truth."

"That's a load of crap if I ever heard it." She said sarcastically. Varric grinned.

"You know me, babe." He flirted, winking at her before leaving her alone in her room, a stupid grin on her face.

—

"I didn't think you had a thing for elves." The inquisitor stated, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall of the tavern. Varric smirked as he took a sip of his ale.

"Jealous?" he teased. The inquisitor scoffed.

"Of a harlot? Not even close."

Varric's eyes were sparkling with humor as he stared at her. She had a small frown on her face and he could see her watching the elf he had been flirting with moments before like a hawk. The girl noticed Varric again and smiled coyly at him. She placed the drink she was serving down and began to walk toward their little party, her hips swaying. The inquisitor was quick to react, her hand on the collar of Varric's shirt pulling him up.

"We should get out of here. Cassandra will want to brief us of our next mission." She said hastily. "Let's go."

She tossed some coins down on the table to pay for the drinks and a groaning Iron Bull and Gray Warden followed them out. Varric glanced behind him to see the serving girl pout at their retreat. He couldn't help his shit-eating grin that spread over his face. The inquisitor looked down at him and seeing the expression, frowned.

"What's with that look on your face?" she practically demanded. Varric shrugged, the grin simmering into a smirk.

"Oh, nothing. Just confirmed a suspicion of mine." He answered. She stared at him quizzically for a moment before returning her attention to the road ahead. She still had ahold of his shirt.

It was in that moment Varric knew without a shadow of a doubt that his inquisitor was very much jealous.

And, Maker, did that sound fine.


	11. Crestwood Falls

**I've been spending time looking at the DA:I wiki page and found a short stubb about a "Thamond". I got curious and did some research, and this kind of happened.**

* * *

"Inquisitor!"

The inquisitor turned to see one of the scouts she had sent out that day standing in the doorway. He was bleeding heavily from wounds and cradling his left arm. He collapsed to his knees and Varric rushed to his side, keeping the man from hurting himself even worse. The inquisitor walked toward him, crouching in front of him to examine his wounds.

"Fetch Vivianne. We need a healer." She ordered.

"Crestwood…" the man gasped, "we were… attacked on our way… everyone died."

The inquisitor clenched her teeth as she looked at the poor state of the man in front of her. Those had been _her_ orders. _She_ had sent them out there to aid Crestwood and it was _her_ fault all those men were dead.

Vivienne entered the room and raised her staff to heal the injured man.

"His wounds are severe, but he will live." She told the inquisitor. The inquisitor nodded curtly before standing. She slammed her hand on the table in front of her.

"Inquisitor, what are your orders?" one of her officers asked. The inquisitor shook her head. She had to choose; she could either demand a retreat from Crestwood and leave the town defenseless to the psychotic Templars or she could send more reinforcements.

"I will go to Crestwood. The red Templars are trying to draw us out of the keep, but they cannot be allowed to hurt all of those people. I will take some men with me to defend the town." She said, turning to address her men. Varric was impressed with her cool determination. She was an adept leader, one who could do what the situation demanded under pressure.

"I'm with ya, gorgeous." The dwarf said as he slung his crossbow over his shoulder. "'Til the end of the line."

The inquisitor gave him a small smile before turning to the rest of her men. "It will be dangerous and I cannot guarantee your safety, but we need to protect those people." She said. Iron Bull, Cassandra, and three others volunteered their help. The inquisitor nodded once before turning on her heel toward the armory.

Once they had gathered their weapons, they were off to Crestwood. Captain Thamond, if he was still alive, should be defending the town, but red Templars were not easy to fight. The red lyrium running through their veins not only made them more aggressive and delirious, but also made them stronger and more resilient fighters.

She sincerely hoped Thamond was still alive. He was a good man and good captain, an asset to her inquisition.

"What's the plan, Princess?" Varric asked, running along beside her.

"Kill anyone that tries to kill you."

"I like it. It's simple." Iron Bull said, smirking down at the dwarf. Varric laughed.

"Good enough for me."

Crestwood was crawling with red Templars. The dead lay in the streets and out of the corner of her eye, the inquisitor saw a Templar drag a young woman out of her house. He raised his blade to kill the screaming woman, but his sword was met with the inquisitor's.

"You will not harm another person in this village." She hissed, her eyes dark with anger. The Templar laughed.

"And you believe you can stop me?"

The inquisitor shoved the Templar back with her sword and as he charged her, she ran him through. He gasped in pain as she twisted the blade, a sneer on her lips.

"You left yourself defenseless. Just because I am a woman does not mean I am incompetent."

She pulled the sword from his gut and swiftly decapitated him.

The fight was long and bloody. Cassandra and the inquisitor fought side by side while Iron Bull watched their backs and Varric offered support with his bow.

"Inquisitor!"

The inquisitor blocked a blow from a Templar before glancing toward the source of the call. A tall man with a dark beard and armor bearing the inquisition's symbol was busy fighting his way toward her. The inquisitor felt relieved at the sight of Thamond.

"Captain, you have survived." She shook his hand as he met her. He smiled.

"As have you, Inquisitor. It is good to see a familiar face. The Templars have been attacking since dawn."

The inquisitor nodded. "I saw. I tried to send a team out to help, but the Templars intercepted them and slaughtered them. I would have been here sooner otherwise." She apologized. Thamond glanced slightly above her and shoved her aside in time to catch the twin knives of a Templar scout.

"No apology necessary, Ma'am. I am simply glad to know you came to help."

Once the Templars had been fought to retreat, the inquisitor turned to her captain.

"How many wounded?"

"Twenty-three. Fourteen dead. Ten still able to fight."

The inquisitor nodded. "Stay with your wounded and send for a healer from the keep. I will take my men with me to follow up the attack."

Thamond nodded. "Thank you for your assistance, Inquisitor."

"Be sure the townspeople are given adequate protection. Evacuate to the keep as soon as you are able to move the wounded." She added. He nodded and turned to do as she instructed. She looked at her men, her mouth set in a thin line.

"We should go. They wanted to remove us from the keep and I want to know why."


	12. Princess

**So here is the reasoning behind Varric's nickname for the inquisitor. Sorry it's another romantic piece, but I do enjoy writing them so so much...  
**

**Thanks for sticking with me! Hope you're enjoying the story so far.**

* * *

The inquisitor was hard at work at her desk, making notes of the places the inquisition had seen the one responsible for the fade tears along with the different places reports were coming in concerning demon attacks. It was a lot of work, but if they were going to stop it, it would require a lot of effort.

Plus there was the Mage-Templar war going on and both sides were constantly trying to tug her in different directions. With Solas pulling for the mages and Cullen trying to drag her toward the Templars, the inquisitor found herself more irritable and exhausted recently.

"Inquisitor, may we talk?" Cullen asked as he walked into the room. The inquisitor, rubbing her temples, closed her eyes and let out a breath of air through her nose in frustration.

"No, Cullen. I'm really not in the mood for another rant on why we should get rid of Solas and Dorian and Vivienne simply because they are mages. I have a lot on my mind right now and I don't want to deal with that."

"That isn't what I wanted to talk about." He said quickly. The inquisitor turned around to look at him tiredly.

"I'm sorry, Cullen, but I really am not feeling well. I don't want to talk to anyone right now."

Cullen nodded and left the room. The inquisitor took a deep breath and stood. She was tired and some sleep could do her good. She felt a little dizzy as she crossed the room, needing to grab ahold of a chair to steady herself. A warm hand pressed against her lower back and another held her elbow. She glanced down to see Varric at her side. He grinned at her.

"Looked like you could use some help."

He helped her sit down and began to unstrap the armor around her arms. She tried to protest but he silenced her with his hand.

"Relax, Princess. I'm just trying to help." He said. The inquisitor relaxed and allowed him to help her out of the heavy armor. He reached around her to unclasp the chest plate and she gently reached out to brush some hair from his eyes.

"Why do you call me that?"

"Call you what?" he asked, looking at her quizzically. The inquisitor cleared her throat and looked away from him.

"You know, 'princess'."

Varric smiled and tapped her chin gently to get her to look at him. The inquisitor complied, still slightly flushed from embarrassment at her question.

"When you think of a princess, what comes to mind?" Varric asked, moving to remove her thick boots. Any embarrassment the inquisitor should have felt at the thought of a man undressing her diminished as she thought about his question.

"Princesses are typically very refined and dainty. They've never had to fight for anything in their lives and live comfortably in a large palace." She answered. Varric set her boots on the floor and slowly stood up. His eyes were piercing as he stared into hers, her heart pounding as he gently nudged her legs apart to pull off the armor around her thighs. The inquisitor held her breath; she had never been this affected by a man before.

"Dwarven princesses are much different than the typical tales you hear of women of the surface. They are fierce warriors, taught from birth how to lead and fight. They are as beautiful as they are deadly, capable of great kindness and great power." The dwarf explained as his hands worked at unbuckling the armor around her thighs. "When I saw you for the first time, fighting demons with your greatsword, your eyes blazing with righteous fury, I was sure you could be nothing less than a princess in the tales my mother used to tell me."

There was an uncomfortable twisting in the inquisitor's gut at his words. Her mouth felt dry and she licked her lips to try to relieve some of that dryness.

"I am hardly any princess, Varric."

Varric quirked a smile at her, straightening once his work was finished. He stayed standing between her open legs, leaning in slightly. His hand reached up to gently trace her face.

"I wouldn't be so sure, Inquisitor. You fit every aspect I grew up believing a princess to be."

"How so?" her voice was little more than a whisper, but her curiosity demanded satisfaction.

"You are an incredibly fighter due to your years as a mercenary. You stand tall and commanding, capable of leading many against a great evil none of us truly understand. And there's no forgetting your beauty."

"You think I'm beautiful?" the inquisitor asked, eyes wide and face flushed. As he had spoken, Varric had nudged his way closer so his face was mere inches from her own. Her legs were spread out around his hips and she resisted the urge to lock them around his waist.

Varric smirked, nodding at her. "You're quite the looker, princess."

It was gone as quickly as it came, a fast brush against her lips. And the inquisitor didn't fully realize what had happened until Varric was across the room leaving. He winked and offered her a quick farewell.

"Sweet dreams, princess."

The inquisitor numbly nodded at him, lying out on her bed with her eyes staring up at the ceiling. Sleep would more than likely not come to her that night. Her thoughts were a swirling mess and her emotions were fluttering about in her gut.

Varric Tethras had just kissed her.


	13. Attack of the Templars

**An illustration of who I assume is Solas has been around for a bit, so I was inspired to believe it is part of his backstory. Solas is really interesting to me; I think there's a lot more to him than just some bald elf guy.  
**

**Also, the next two chapters will deal with the Orlesian Ball everyone has been so excited about. I personally am looking forward to seeing what would require the inquisition to attend a ball (especially since my Inquisitor doesn't seem like much of a ball person). **

* * *

As the civil war between Templars and Mages broke out, there was desperation flooding the ranks of both sides. Many mages turned to blood magic and just as many Templars turned to the volatile and dangerous red lyrium.

Solas was not one of those to cling to the dangerous magic. He was the leader of a small apostate camp. Despite his elven heritage, the camp consisted of any magic users. They were rather nomadic, staying out of the thick of the fighting and only defending themselves when necessary.

It wasn't that they didn't believe in the mages cause, they did. But with the Templars beginning to turn to red lyrium, it became much more dangerous to ally themselves with the other mages. With the fade beginning to tear open, they lived in dangerous times.

Solas and his camp were not only trying to stay safe from the Templars, but being mages and knowing the fade they were also trying to find a way to stop or fix the tears.

"Solas?" Moirah, a human female with bright blue eyes and thick red hair called from her tent. Solas turned to look at her. He had been sitting on a log in the camp looking at a map and trying to see if there was any correlation between the tears appearing.

"Can I help you?" he asked with a smile. She winked at him.

"Don't you think you've been out there long enough? It's getting late. You should come to bed."

Solas nodded. "I'll be there in a moment."

Moirah frowned, walking to stand beside him. "Solas, you're going to run yourself ragged. You've been pouring over those papers and that map for three days now. Some rest will do you good." She placed her hand on his shoulder. "Please, come to bed."

Solas stood to press a quick kiss to her mouth. "We need to be prepared. These tears don't look to be accidental; I think I can figure this out with a little more time."

Moirah pouted, but didn't press any further.

"Alright, if you think it's necessary, I'll leave you to it."

Solas watched her until she disappeared inside her tent. They were all apostates, mages running from the circle, and had been together for nearly four years. They consisted of all races and ages, from old men to newborn babies.

It was a hard life, but life under the control of the Templars would be even worse. As the elven mage began to circle different places on the map, he heard a shout from their lookout. His heart sank and despair settled in his gut.

There was only one thing that would cause their lookout to panic like that: Templars.

"Solas!" the lookout shouted, "Templars! Hundreds of them! Coming this way!"

The panic began to spread through the rest of the camp as people scrambled to grab their belongings. Tala clutched her baby to her chest as she ran. Devid and Kylee broke down their tent and scrambled to gather their things. Moirah crawled out of her tent, her eyes wild with terror.

"Moirah!" Solas called to the terrified woman. She was shaking. Solas looked around at the other panicking mages and clenched his staff tightly in his grip. "Go!" he shouted, fire sprouting from his wooden staff, "I'll hold them back; you all run!"

As everyone tried to run, the Templars attacked. Solas cast a fire ball into the thick of them and glanced back in time to see Moirah slit her palm.

"Moirah!" he shouted in horror. Her smile was wide and her eyes were blank as she stared at him. She had more reason than most to fear the Templars. Her parents had been slaughtered in front of her by them and had been nearly killed by them a few years ago.

"I won't let them take me again. Never again!" she screamed, blood magic pouring from her fingertips. Solas wanted to scream.

"Don't do this! I love you!" he shouted as she ran toward the Templars. Her flesh bubbled and burst into open sores as she became an abomination. And then it was too late. Solas had lost her.

Solas fought with all his might to protect his people, but as he fought, those who ran were either killed by the Templars surrounding them or turned to blood magic. It was a lost cause and soon Solas was the last of his camp left. He surrounded himself with a force field as they charged him before evaporating into smoke, performing a stealth move he had learned from a rogue several years ago.

The Templars didn't stay long in the apostate camp, only long enough to destroy what was left and be sure the other apostates were dead. Solas revealed himself once he was sure the Templars were gone. He glanced around at the broken remains and the burning bodies of his friends.

He had lost everything that day. Everyone he cared about, everyone he loved. With the veil tears worsening with everyday, he knew the only way he could honor his comrades' memories was to finish what they had started together: investigating the veil tears.

Nearly a month later when he was feeling hopeless and broken due to his lack of success at his endeavors, the inquisitor found him. His cause found new purpose and beside her, he knew he would succeed.

His friends and family would not have died in vain.


	14. The Orlesian Ball: Part 1

**And here it is! The first of two chapters about the Orlesian Ball everyone is so excited about. Hope you enjoy!**

**Also, if there are any fan speculated theories you have or heard about that you would like written, send me a message and I'd be happy to check it out to see if I can fit it into this story.**

* * *

The inquisitor tugged in irritation at the maroon silk dress with tassels and buttons encrusted in gold she had been forcefully shoved into by Vivienne earlier that day. Her long hair was pulled out of her face to "highlight her pretty eyes" as Vivienne had said. Oh, and her feet had been shoved into gold shoes that pinched her toes.

Overall, the former mercenary was very uncomfortable and hating the mission more with each passing moment.

"Remind me again why we are here?" she asked the Orlesian mage beside her. Vivienne was happily admiring the work she had done on the inquisitor.

"Empress Celene's life is in danger and until she can sign a treaty with Ferelden, Orlais is in a delicate situation. The inquisition has a tough enough time fighting monsters everyday _with_ the ability to travel borders. Without this treaty and with Empress Celene dead, Orlais will be off limits to us." She explained. The inquisitor sighed and nodded dejectedly.

She did not want to do this.

"Come on, Princess. Stop it with the long face. It'll be fun." Varric said with a wink. The inquisitor would never admit it to anyone, but the dwarf cleaned up nicely. His tunic was ridiculously too low and exposed far too much of his chest, but he looked nice in Orlesian robes.

The inquisitor gave him a sour look. "Until the day you must dance in gold shoes that are much too small for your feet, I do not want to hear you say _anything _about my face." She growled. Varric chuckled, looking her up and down.

"Well, you clean up nicely either way, gorgeous."

The inquisitor fixed him with a glare. "What did I tell you about calling me that?"

He simply grinned at her.

Empress Celene had uncovered an assassination attempt that would take place during the course of the ball she was throwing that night. She had confided in her advisor, Vivienne, and Vivienne had promised to stop the assassin. That was why she, Varric, and the Inquisitor were dressed in fine clothing and attending the empress' ball.

"How am I going to fight in this?" The inquisitor asked Vivienne. Varric answered her instead by pulling aside her skirts to slip a pair of jewel daggers into the folds. The inquisitor looked at him in surprise.

"I acquired them from a merchant just outside of town. They match your dress in case someone notices them." He told her. She frowned slightly as she looked at the weapons.

"I have never fought with daggers before." She confessed. Varric took them from her and placed them in her hands, showing her how to hold them.

"It's simple, the pointy end goes into the other guy." He said with a grin. That elicited a smile from the inquisitor and she gripped the blades tightly in her hands. Varric let go of her wrists. "It's not much, but it's something in case you need them."

"Remember, we are not to draw attention to ourselves or let anyone know we think something is wrong." Vivienne said. The inquisitor nodded, returning the knives to her dress. She took a deep breath as she stared at the double doors leading to the ballroom.

"Let's get this over with." She said, determined. Her companions nodded and followed in behind her as she pushed the doors open.

The richly decorated hall was draped in gold and blue while people danced to the music from the orchestra playing to the right. The inquisitor stood rigidly in front of the doors, frozen in minor panic. She was a mercenary; she knew how to fight and how to lead, but dancing? She was lost.

Vivienne leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"Remember to blend in. Try to discover if anyone seems to be acting strangely. We need to stop the assassin before he can strike. And do not make yourself a target in the process." She said. The inquisitor nodded once, stiffly, and Vivienne left her alone to meet up with the fourth member of their party: Dorian Pavus. The mustachioed man bowed to her before taking her into his arms. The inquisitor felt a little bit jealous at how easily the pair was able to fit in with the nobles in the room.

Not to mention Vivienne was a wonderful dancer. She glided across the floor and Dorian complimented her quite well.

The inquisitor glanced around the room, feeling helpless in the situation. She knew how to take down many different foes, but pretending to be a noble was something she was lacking at. Manners and refinement were not in her repertoire.

"Princess, relax." Varric said from beside her. He took her hand and gently led her to the dance floor. "I may not be the best dancer, but I'm one hell of a teacher." He smirked at her and placed one of her hands on his shoulder and the other in his own hand. His free hand came to rest on her hip. His head didn't quite reach her shoulders, but it wasn't as awkward as the inquisitor feared it would be. He led her into the waltz and she was careful to keep from stepping on his feet.

"Why would someone think an assassination attempt during a ball would go over well? There are too many people around." The inquisitor whispered to her dwarven companion.

"A ball provides the perfect opportunity. There are less guards around and most people don't wear armor to dance."

"Speaking of dancing," the inquisitor grinned cheekily at him, "who knew dwarves could dance?"

Varric looked at her in mock offense. "My lady, dwarves are quite well known for their dancing capabilities. All of the nobility are to take classes on dance while growing up and even the poorest caste entertain themselves with dancing."

The inquisitor raised her eyebrow at him. "That can't be the truth." She told him. Varric gave her a toothy grin.

"Lying through my teeth, Princess."

The pair fell into silence as the inquisitor focused on the steps of the dance and Varric focused on the inquisitor. She had been growing on him since the moment he met her. She was a little rough around the edges, but had a good heart.

"I never thanked you for the daggers, Varric." The inquisitor whispered, leaning in so her lips brushed his ear. Varric suppressed a shiver.

"No need to."

"I want to." The inquisitor protested. "Let me make it up to you."

Varric smirked at her. "And just how do you plan to do that?" he asked. She shrugged, chewing on her lower lips. It was a habit Varric found he enjoyed watching.

"Anything you want."

Varric quirked an eyebrow at her, amused. "So you'll do _anything_?" he teased, heavy innuendo lacing his tone. The inquisitor resisted rolling her eyes at him. She opened her mouth to rebuff his question when a piercing pain in her chest caused her to hiss in pain. Varric's eyes widened and he looked down. He swallowed hard.

"Inquisitor—"

She glanced down, already knowing what she would find. The tip of a dagger was protruding from her chest, just shy of her heart. The inquisitor gritted her teeth, feeling blood soaking her gown, and roughly grabbed Varric's shoulder to stabilize herself. He grasped her arms to hold her steady.

There were cries of panic from the partygoers as several men in black seemed to materialize around the room. The inquisitor shoved Varric away from her.

"Get Vivienne." She ordered and pulled out the daggers he had given her earlier. Varric nodded once before moving quickly to find the Orlesian mage. The inquisitor faced the assassin closest to her and raised the unfamiliar weapons. She had fought wounded before. The trick was not to remove the blade.

There were no sarcastic jibes from the inquisitor or her attackers; she simply stood at the ready, waiting for them to strike.


End file.
